


Colours

by Kaamos (reckless_love)



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Feelings, Light BDSM, Love Addiction, M/M, Masturbation, Obsession, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Psychology, Rope Bondage, Size Difference, Unhealthy Relationships, Vignette, almost, angbang, gratuitous insults towards Aulë, sexual fixations, short fiction, very dominant Melkor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-03-09 17:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13486509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reckless_love/pseuds/Kaamos
Summary: Dismal: "Everything around him is grey, sometimes brighter, sometimes darker, but it doesn’t matter, as nothing has any real influence but Melkor."Murky: "Everything around him is nebulous, everything’s just spinning wildly around him. His thought of him is vague, dim, and taking many forms"Luster: "Darkness falls over him; everything slowly fades to black as the night consumes him. Nevertheless, the image of him has flown from the rays of the moon and is fleeing into the nocturnal hours with blazing wings."Glow: "The pain of the light turns into the blackness of the room when Mairon opens his eyes once again.Melkor’s cock drives the want in him and he experiences colours too"





	1. Dismal

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, this flu is giving me a lot of (insane) inspirations but I really don't know if they're good or not. After those two vignettes on feelings and sensantions, the theme is again sensations but mixed with colours.  
> *WARNING*: kind of unhealty relationship. If it's not your dish, leave it to someone else.  
> I really hope you like it.

Being with him always alters his sense of time, the perception he has of it, and, at that point, Mairon doesn’t know exactly what time is it; perhaps something like approximately 10 p.m.  
He spent one hour in his mother's company, hardly managing the pulsing erection he had while sitting. His mother talked all the time, he slightly smiled and nodded, sipping absent-mindedly at the cup of tea, as he was getting harder in his trousers, only imaging those hands upon him. Controlling him. Shaping him.  
And now, alone in his room, the only thing he desires is him, for Melkor is just like getting drunk in a matter of seconds, except one can still think clearly and lust intensely. Perhaps differently or deeply.

Everything around him is grey, sometimes brighter, sometimes darker, but it doesn’t matter, as nothing has any real influence but Melkor.  
He lies on the bed in his room, the gaze lost somewhere on the window on his side. Melkor’s signature inside of him is still there in place, just a ridiculous, mediocre hint compared to his enormous cock; and yet, he doesn’t want to pull it out. He could wash all the darkness away but he doesn’t want to.

Mairon thinks back to what happened no more than four hours before.  
'Your father is a dick', his velvety voice resounds in his mind and he caresses the hard bulge of his erection in his jeans, pressing up and begging to be set free.

Melkor was right.  
His father brought that ravenous beast in their house, in his life, during one of those never-ending corporate events. Under everyone’s eyes, Melkor clinked his glass with his to get his attention, “I think you're so damn hot”, he whispered in his left ear, leaning in towards him with a firm grasp on his arm. That might have been the alcohol talking, Mairon thought at first, but seeing how he came to him going out on point, with that tone that let him know how serious he was, he got no doubt at all, at the end. Mairon glanced around his surroundings: a group of unknow people talking on the left of his side, his father laughing at jokes he really didn’t find amusing with their big boss in the middle of the room, his mother entertaining the ladies as the perfect landlady she was.  
Mairon was not stupid. Fuck the son to fuck harder the father. It was so obvious.  
And still, Melkor entered Mairon’s bed so easily.

Mairon’s lips form a single word, a whispered name, and the image of him materialises so vividly in his mind: considerably older than him, taller, strong-willed, irresistible, with long hair seeming soft like silk, very attractive with that scar on his face, and his pale eyes roaming and craving for Mairon so bad.

He licks his lips, while unbuttoning his jeans; he lifts his ass to work the stiff fabric down the hips, taking his underwear with them and Melkor thumbs inside of him, making him moan hopelessly as it happens. And when he bends his knees while lying down, Melkor forces forward a bit more, pushing so arousingly, with its base steady settled between his cheeks, and his cock stretches full-hard in the cold air. One hand wraps around his cock to give it a slow pull of relief, the other sneaks under the tee to twist one nipple.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on Melkor, when he gave him some special attention, placing the tip of his finger on his frenulum, then taking his shaft, along with the finger, into his mouth, moved the mouth up and down, rubbing the finger over that soft spot of him. Mairon let chocked cries out.

Now Mairon moans, pushing his hips upward into his own fist, feeling the loneliness and the emptiness of the self: his hand is nothing, while Melkor's is everything.  
He remembers the bitter, salty taste of Melkor come on his tongue: he loves his come. His lips twitch, “Fuck”, Mairon presses out and comes all over his flat belly.

He heads towards his private bathroom. He closes the door behind him when he enters, and leans against the door, breathing heavily.  
Melkor’s pale eyes burn behind his eyelids. And so does Melkor’s signature inside of him.


	2. Murky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Everything around him is nebulous, everything’s just spinning wildly around him; his thought of him is vague, dim, and taking many forms"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just continuing this trip through feelings, sensations and obsessions. I know it's not easy, but sometimes love is not easy. I hope you like it.  
> Next chapter...everything (or nothing) changes.

The geometrical patters, artistic and intricate, work like little _intensions_ , picture of the event still fresh and vivid on his throbbing body, bringing him to someone else’s presence.

Red traces contrast beautifully with the pale, smooth and young skin, together with his natural just hinted body’s curves.  
The map around the hips magically transforms his shape into something ethereal and otherworldly, making him feel the effect of excessive pleasure on a single portion of skin, the emphasising characteristics of his sensuality, vulnerability and strength.

Aroused and nude, Mairon spreads his legs wide and gets a good point in the mirror.

The marks give him a thrill of pleasure, and he feels the need to follow them meticulously, with a slow and featherlike touch from his fingertips; the intricate design starts around his wrists, up to his arms, and then it leads towards his chest, around his nipples, where strong knots deepened and bit the skin, stimulating precise points of his sensible body. He pulls one nipple gently and rolls it between thumb and finger, at the same time continuing the caresses of his fingers along the reddened trace of rope on skin.

He starts caressing himself slowly, minding to not rock his hips, not forward nor back, not so soon, not so easy; Mairon just loses track of the time, slowly moving his head backward, eyes rolling back and exhaling slightly, as the fingers are getting firmer, pressing in and then letting go, pressing in and letting go, warm and soft, squeezing all the right places.

“ _You are beautiful_ ”, Melkor whispered while having Mairon sit on his lap, “ _and you are mine_ ”, a visible hesitation in his eyes, a meandering doubt harbouring inside of him, like something just discovered, just come to light, not light nor subtle, and Mairon himself was wondering about the man’s thoughts, while his hands caressed his body.  
But then, Melkor took him and Mairon flew high, drunk of Melkor’s lust, a trance-like experience shaped by Melkor’s will, exploring new conditions and spaces of both, his own body and mind.

“You are beautiful”, Mairon says to himself, Melkor’s tone of voice in his mind, creating a combination of effect on his soul: beauty, power, helplessness, relaxation. Like that he starts with tiny rocking motions towards his cock, forward and back, biting the lip to stop from grunting and groaning when the plug – the one that Melkor slid abruptly inside of him – begins to move comfortably with the body and create a subtle pressure, which feels divine, which feels alive like Melkor’s cock.

And still, it’s just a pale and illusory idea.

Everything around him is nebulous, everything’s just spinning wildly around him. His thought of him is vague, dim, and taking many forms: a feeling similar to the rush brought on by drugs abuse, like cocaine or heroin. And Mairon can't stop; he’s away while the hand’s flying up and down, sliding the foreskin up and over, imagining Melkor’s body wrapping him, looking up at him with his hard and enchanting gaze, showing the dark place behind those beautiful and glacial eyes.

“This is the last time”, Melkor whispered, while having him at the peak of his pleasure, with a cruel and impenetrableness expression: Mairon got an incredibly intense orgasm, and the euphoria of the climax was much more intense than what is normal for him.

The breathing deepens frantically. Mairon increases the intensity of the strokes, pressing harder, twisting and squeezing his cock in his hand and pulling at the tip, making him gasp in bliss. He freezes for a moment, his back arches while the plug makes its own way deeper, as sucked into the abyss. Intensity gets the highest point of utmost pleasure with a mix of nothingness, and he comes hard, his silky, warm release spilling deliciously over his own hand. Whole-body he trembles with the force of his orgasm, and it burns, for having the plug squeezed too hungrily, too angrily, with the stiffness of his cheeks.

And still, he doesn’t know which one is aching more, if his body or his soul. Only for himself his flesh has pain, and for himself his soul mourns.


	3. Luster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkness falls over him; everything slowly fades to black as the night consumes him. Nevertheless, the image of him has flown from the rays of the moon and is fleeing into the nocturnal hours with blazing wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, it's time to face the real obsession, until now veiled. This chapter has been hard to write, while trying to find words for the root of obsession. Please, give it a chance and thank you.  
> And sorry for my very bad Eng...

They say that pure obsession has no form.  
It is a nail in the brain, a beast shaking deep inside the flesh. Drops softly dropping, drop by drop, never stop falling. It's an _emotion_. A feeling, nauseating in its vapidity, and yet inescapable. And it burns, like a canister of gasoline dumping over the flames of desire.

But the venom in his mind is running through his flesh, and it has a face, a body and a name.

Darkness falls over him; everything slowly fades to black as the night consumes him. Nevertheless, the image of him has flown from the rays of the moon and is fleeing into the nocturnal hours with blazing wings. The shimmer of his hazel eyes, framed by long sensual lashes, is glowing in his mind. And he…he’s just succumbing to the radiance.

Desire has him.  
Like waves of lust, sensations fill his body, once again alive, and the feeling of his obsession utterly wraps him, rolling through him and making him shiver and moan.

Obsession has him in its power.  
And it seems to know this, and it seems to satirically laugh at him, and play with his devoted to consuming passion body.

Indeed, every centimetre of his skin is screaming, making him think of his golden hair like a halo, the colour of honey, falling in large waves down his back.  
He’s already at full attention and can feel the cock yarning to break free from the clothed prison. He moans while unzipping his trousers and tugging at the waistband of his underwear. Finally, it breathes and he moves onto his own cock. 

There was an unbearable _tension_ between them.

With a muted groan he observed silently the symbolic tethers of unseen experiences all around his young sublimity. Then, he pulled the form of his tied body on his lap, the unique _sense_ of his perfect and round ass, decorated with a sensual rope, on his powerful thighs. He began kissing him, and he found him clinging to him, as breathless, hungry and thirsty as he was. He returned his kisses like a starving man, burying his head against his neck and caressed the golden hair with a craving touch: the younger man was beautiful, and he craves beauty on a deeper level of his unconscious.  
He softly teased his hardened pink nipples with his large hands. The younger man gasped and quivered violently for the stimulation: Melkor felt the complete control over him and…oh, how beautifully Mairon whimpered for him, how sensually he moaned his name, lost in his erotic helplessness, while he was penetrating him.

Sweet noises of passions now fill the space of a memory, a thought independent of Melkor´s will, the ideal setting for obsessive love, and he reaches down and grasps his hardened shaft. Something is telling him to do this. Something is making his hands hold and stimulate himself like this. Something is pulling this intangible urge from the depths of his psyche and acting on something he doesn't even know about.  
He begins to slowly fist it, imagining his hand on his cock, and his lips on his. He imagines his voice in his ears, his fast breath on his skin. His eyes are closed, but he’s sure if they were open, he could have them rolled back into the back of his head.

The heat in the body climbs, and Melkor begins to stroke faster the massive cock, as pre-cum oozes out the tip. He breathes harder, his chest purging deeper and deeper, as systematically the hips move together with the hand. The more the stimulation grows higher, the more thoughts come into his mind. He wants to push Mairon against the wall and bite his neck like a wild wolf. He wants to hold Mairon’s head by his golden halo, as fucking his mouth. He wants to pin Mairon on the bed and possess him. The head spins, and he braces himself against the armchair, panting with need.  
It’s as if electricity has been applied to every sensitive spot of his body, and he’s shaking and stiff.  Then, stiffening further, he comes hard, with Mairon’s name on his lips.  He shudders as the intense pleasure ripples through the body. Never has he cum so hard with a simple self-stimulation. It’s then that he knows what he wants more than anything in the world.

Only Mairon he wants, the one who made him feel like a god.  
He wants to be bound and restrained tight and blindfolded as Mairon moans his name and tells him he’s his one and only love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, it's always a pleasure to read your thoughts in comments :) thank you for reading ❤


	4. Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The pain of the light turns into the blackness of the room when Mairon opens his eyes once again.  
> Melkor’s cock drives the want in him and he experiences colours too"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been incredibly hard to write. Less oneiric and more corporeal, I tried to focus on the changing in their relationship, always experimenting sensations, stimuli and feelings.  
> Hope you like it.

Mairon sits with the legs crossed on the king size bed, wondering when that waiting game would end; he continues to scan his features, from his well-chiselled chin to his mouth, so carnal and full of promise. That mouth whose kisses caused him so much pleasure and disrupted his body so intensely.  
But Melkor keeps with that standing on the doorway, blocking any way out. His hand, big and sensual, hold a glass of liquor with such elegance. He speaks softly, voice black and deep, like hypnotic vapour surrounding him and sending chills down his spine; so smooth, that Mairon does really think it could be the wind from outside, a storm incoming as the weather forecast promised.

After some time, Melkor walks towards him, glass in hand, with intention to join the bedside, no hesitation in his steps. His hand makes a detour on the table just to set the glass down. His buttoned shirt comes off at the top, revealing his proud, smooth chest. And finally, he sits down beside Mairon, taking his hand on his, their fingers intertwining in an animalistic greed, with flames igniting the loins with just a touch of their skin.

Melkor cannot take the eyes off of him. His hungry, pale eyes are fixed on him, drinking in his ethereal beauty, slowly roaming and lingering upon him, indulging in obscene thoughts. Hypnotically, with one unpredictable movement, he pushes Mairon down to lay on the bed with a hard kiss, enjoying every taste of his mouth: he bites his bottom lip and gives it a suck before ending the kiss.

Mairon gasps, the feeling of his mouth on him rolls through him and makes him shiver and moan. He loses himself, for Melkor’s gentle in an unexpected way, in a way that only amplifies the power in his strong body.  
He lets out a mewl of pleasure and dissatisfaction when Melkor gets up for a moment to let down his jeans and remove them. Mairon has own hands busy undoing his own trousers, and then kicking them off. Melkor throws away Mairon's shirt before placing himself on the top of him with a fluid motion; there he begins to trail kisses and nibbles down his chest. He licks, kisses his stomach, and, giving his cock a miss, trails light kisses down one leg and foot, and up the other one.

Mairon feels electric as Melkor explores him: he can only lay submissively, and moan his name, as if to taste the full sound of it on his lips, around his tongue, in the perfection of his presence.

Melkor feels the blood rushing to the centre of his pleasure. The urgency to have him has been replaced by a desire to feel and be felt.   
Oh, how much he desired Mairon to moan his name wantonly.   
The younger man shudders under him with total completion, whispering his name again, and the sound of it, soft and hoarse, is an escape from his inner darkness. It is as if the sky is torn to reveal the infinite absence of light behind it.

Melkor pushes him up, turns him around and pulls him to his body, almost protectively between his arms, his hands sliding up his flat stomach to his hard nipples pinching them between is fingers. He kisses his neck, nibbling on it tirelessly, making a trail up to the earlobe just to nip at it and tickle his skin. This sends shivers through the younger body and makes him growling.  

Mairon's body is consumed in the sensation, as he ravishes him. He pushes the ass to his crotch, rubbing it up and down his noticeable erection, and grins knowing how much Melkor likes it. And then he feels pain. Like white light beaming to unready eyes, it burns. Mairon whimpers at the sensation of his lips pressed against the neck and his teeth scratching the skin as he bites on it. The pain of the light turns into the blackness of the room when Mairon opens his eyes once again.

Melkor's cock drives the want in him and he experiences colours too: cobalt blue lines, all in array, dancing and circling all round their bodies, their beautiful bodies engulfed in lights that seem never to dull. Threads of them binding the two lovers together and separating them in the process, at the same time.

The hard and long cock rubs up and down his crack. It feels so good. Melkor puts a hand on his shoulder and leans him forward, guiding his young body to his pleasure.

Mairon finds a new balance placing the hands on the wall and then spreads the legs. He feels the sticky-watery sensation on the crack of the ass, while he slimes its way down and presses the head of his hard member inside of him. Like an insatiable lover he submits to his will, feeling a constant pressure as his body yields to his hardness, making Melkor his, eternally bound, eternally devoted. He coaxes him in to him with his mind.  Everything turns into purple while Mairon closes his eyes, invading Melkor's feelings with his, as if his thoughts were Melkor's thoughts, and vice versa.  
His cock thrusts and Mairon feels more need of him. He takes more of him into his body. And the more he's filled, the more he’s fulfilled.

Melkor lets him work his cock with the body, just swaying his hips so that Mairon can feel him in new places. As expected, Mairon is in ecstasy. Soon Melkor takes his hips and begins to slide out of him, then he pushes all the way in: slowly out and slowly in he works his body, making him part of that beautiful paint. He pushes hard, enters with ease and slows his way in. A golden glimmer rises from their bodies, intense and peaceful, and still frantic and irresistible.

Mairon winces, “F-fuck”, and presses the chest onto the wall. Biting his own bottom lip harshly, he forces himself to push against and with Melkor's powerful thrusts. Their bodies seem to shape into one while the fervour of the fucking intensified.

The golden radiance shifts into a pale orange glow, deep within their being. Like a fire, intense, it appears. Mairon's shallow breaths and his pushing back to meet the vigorous thrusts inflames Melkor: he fists his blonde hair, while brutally plunging into him, the shimmering of his passion explodes with his groans and moans, rhythmically following the thrusts, getting louder and louder. His hands hold him hard against him, by his hip, by his hair, and he pushes and pulls out fucking him as hard as he can. Their flame grows with each blow. Mairon cries out getting closer to his climax. But Melkor’s flame breaks out and engulfs Mairon’s, together in one existence.

They kiss. His tongue penetrates his mouth, as does his cock. The heat burns deep, their thoughts of pleasure melt in each other's mind, and at last comes one kiss. Not gentle, nor tender, but possessive and heated, as Melkor forces his tongue in his mouth. Mairon groans feeling him as he comes in his ass, his own balls tighten, the orgasm takes over his body and he's left chanting. He feels so delightfully overwhelmed, as he crashes down on the bed:

“You said it was the last time”, Mairon murmurs, still lost into a swirling pleasure, “then why are we still together?”.

Never did Melkor imagine obsession could be so deep and devastating.  
No more allowed to hide himself from him with words, he kisses his blushed cheek with a tenderness never shown earlier and wraps him in his arms tightly:

“My passion”, he whispers in his ear, before their tongues slowly slide and circle each other. 

And what is left behind are only colours, sensual bond between lovers, bodies and souls melting into each other's.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ♥ !


End file.
